.Hack: Penance
A .Hack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun
Notes: Happens after the end of Quarantine. (Thoughts look like this.) Nothing quite like a little break to get back into writing. Sometimes you gotta leave to come back, eh? Anyway, time for some catching up in the plot. With sexy results.
Okay, probably not. But read anyway, please? :)
This chapter done to the tune of: Oasis – Where Did it All Go Wrong?
Chapter 22 – Returning to Life
He took a long pull of air, fed to him through the tube that ran beneath his noise; he heard his own pulse from the attached electrocardiograph, just above the sound of distant footsteps and inaudible chatter.
Dean let his eyes wander over the contents of the hospital room. The floor and ceiling were beige, the walls a light blue. A picture of a vase of flowers hung opposite him, and an inactive TV sat in the corner on a shelf built into the wall, with the VCR above it showing the time at 6pm. The curtains were shut, and the last traces of the day's sunlight were filtered onto the floor, keeping the light in the room to a minimum.
There was a gentle numbness just above the left side of his waist; covered by blankets, he could only assume that was where he had been operated upon and bandaged.
Someone knocked on the door, and then the knob turned; the door opened, revealing a older Japanese man with a thin face and receding gray hair, dressed in a light brown suit. He stepped into the room, clasping his hands behind his back, appraising Dean with a small smile on his face. "Ah, you're awake. Good. How are you feeling?"
"Tired," Dean answered; his voice and throat were dry, quieting his voice. "What's happening, Mas?"
Aniki approached the bed, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to Dean. "I was hoping you could tell me that. It's been about 24 hours since we found you, and you've been missing for the past four days or so. You had us all a little worried."
Dean snorted. "Well, I would've called, but... but, uh... you know what, I'm too tired to be clever. Let's just say I've a bad friggin' week, huh?"
"You'll be fine," said Masamoto. "Lost some blood, but no serious damage; they got the bullet out and patched you up pretty quickly. Doctors say you might even be healthy enough to leave tomorrow."
"Good," said Dean with a sigh. "Did you find anything on the floor?"
The lieutenant glanced at the window. "Not as much as we'd hoped. The building administrator said they were listed under some consulting firm, just a front company. Eyewitnesses from the other offices saw two men heading to the freight elevator; they must have had a ride waiting, because they were long gone by the time we got there."
Dean nodded slightly, staring up at the ceiling. "I got two of 'em on the way out."
He looked back at the injured detective. "Yes, we found them. The coroner's working on an ID right now..."
"James MacReady," Dean cut in. "One of them was... James MacReady, just some heavy they hired. I don't remember the other one's name."
Masamoto creased his brow. "Who's 'they,' Dean? What were you investigating?"
"Ever since the convention started getting set up," said Dean, "I've been keeping my eye on Rosenberg, Asara Corporation's CEO." He grew more awake, his words gaining in strength. "I found out he's been meeting with some very bad guys, one of them I know quite well – guy named Felix Croker, he and I did a stretch together at San Quentin. There's sixteen that I've counted so far, some of them ex-cons, one's a mercenary, they got a couple tech guys too. I got a list of 'em at home."
"What are they here for?"
Dean let the question hang for a moment, phrasing his response in his head first. "Do you remember way back when I first came here? The night you guys arrested me for breaking into Cyber Connect?"
Masamoto nodded. "You and the late Mr. Kayora were here to steal data from Cyber Connect. Some sort of autonomous program, right?"
"Delphi, yeah." Dean paused again, this time for emphasis. "And then later, when you helped me get info one of CC's programmers, Seijiro Tanaka. We found out about Morganna?"
"The AI from the game." The lieutenant narrowed his blue eyes. "What are you getting at, Dean?"
"What if I told you it was all happening again? That Rosenberg has hired a new batch of guys to steal from Cyber Connect – this time from inside the game itself, 'The World'?"
Aniki's lips pressed into a flat line. "I'd ask what they plan to steal."
"Not what. Who."
Surprise crossed the older man's face, but he caught on quick. "Another AI?"
"Yeah; kind of a software lock that Harald installed into the game to protect against Morganna, at least that's how I understand it. But she's alive. Her name is Aura. She spoke to me... helped me to wake up back there." Dean shivered. "Look, what matters right now is they plan to extract her from the internet somehow, and I don't know what they're planning to do with her, but if it's Rosenberg, it can't be good."
"Aura? I see." Aniki looked away for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I'll be damned... well, you've been right about all this stuff before, but I will have to ask you more about this... Aura later."
Dean half-smiled. "Gotcha. In the meantime, why don't you tell me more about what you found at the office."
"They left behind quite a bit of hardware," said the lieutenant. "You'll get an exact list later, but off the top of my head... a laptop computer and controllers, a ton of tranquilizers and some other chemicals, some small arms, and video recording equipment. It looked like they were doing more than just keeping you under there. Speaking of which, they also had some of your things, too."
"Yeah, that was all a decoy," Dean lamented. "I walked right into it. Basically they wanted to get the attention of a hacker, and used her as an intermediary to try and extract Aura."
Aniki was quick to change the subject. "However, the office wasn't very large. There couldn't have been more than half a dozen men at any given moment."
Grumbling, Dean echoed the statement. "I counted four on my way out, including the two dead guys."
"If you can add, that means they've got more of these places set up around the city."
Dean chuckled wearily. "Just when I thought somebody up there was starting to like me again..."
Masamoto rose from his chair. "Tell you what. You rest up, and give me a call when they release you. We'll figure out what to do next later, okay?"
The detective's eyes drifted shut. "All right."
"It's this one on the right, up ahead."
Masamoto followed Dean closely, watching carefully as the detective navigated the hallway, a bit of a limp to his step as he tried to avoid putting weight on his wounded left side. Though the gunshot had been far from mortal, and despite the doctor's assurance that he would recover quickly, he had been advised not to carry anything heavy; Masamoto had all but insisted on carrying Dean's personal effects, which had been taken from him when he was captured.
He passed the duffel bag from his left hand to his right, and saw Dean come to a stop at room 306.
"Hey, I never asked," he began all of a sudden, "how did you find out where I was, anyway?"
"You know a kid named Hiroshi Nakosuke?" He mumbled in affirmation. "He told me about what you'd found out from your notes, and mentioned the office complex."
Dean laughed quietly to himself as he unlocked the door. "You're kidding! Hiro called you?" He shook his head and opened the door, stepping inside and hitting the light switch. "I'll be goddamned if that boy ain't worth his weight in gold."
Aniki joined him in the apartment. "Where do you want the bag?"
"Just set it on the floor, I'll sort it out later. Thanks, Mas; I owe you one."
"Oh, don't you worry," Masamoto replied, "I have a hunch you'll be paying us back real soon."
"Yeah, that's been happening to me a lot lately." Dean rolled his eyes. "I swear to God, this city's gonna kill me one of these days."
"Heh heh. Well, don't forget about tomorrow. Meet me at the police station at noon, we've got a few things to work out."
Dean slowly paced around his apartment, looking for anything out of place, though it had been too for long to remember what 'in place' looked like. "Yeah, will do. Car's at the impound lot, right?"
"Mm-hmm. You can pick it up as soon as we're done tomorrow."
"Cool." Casually sauntering over to the bag, Dean knelt down and began rifling through it. He let out an audible "Huh?" when his hands came upon something cold, hard and angular. He took a firm grip on the object and pulled it free from the bag, eyes widening as he found himself holding a familiar Glock .40 handgun, its magazine missing and chamber empty.
"Holy hell, you found this?? I thought for sure they'd go and frame me with it or something."
Masamoto began to speak, as Dean cradled the gun in his hands. "Well, there were other prints on it, but it wasn't loaded."
Dean grinned. "Yeah, I never bothered to load it after I got it back last time. I tried to bluff with it when I went in, but, uh... heh, didn't quite work out that way." He pushed the bolt forward, creating a satisfying click. "It was a gift from my old partner; had to reapply for a permit after I got out of jail. This little guy and me have been through a lot this past year."
Aniki raised an eyebrow, convinced if the detective could have emoted a smile, he would have. "Right. Well, uh, I'll see you later. Have a good night, Dean."
"Yeah, you too, Mas."
He stuffed the gun back in the duffel bag, standing up as Masamoto left and closed the door behind him. A slight twinge in his left flank caused him to wince, and he rubbed the bandage-covered portion of his body, almost able to feel the stitches through his forest green t-shirt.
It was then that he noticed the light on his answering machine was flashing. He strode over to the device and hit the play button, then turned back to the bag.
"You have five new messages," the machine said in a monotone, vaguely feminine voice.
(Just five?) thought Dean. (Heh, I'm in demand.)
"Message one."
(Ah-ha! My jacket!) Dean reached into the bag again and pulled out a brown leather jacket, another possession he had developed an attachment to. Despite its obvious age and abuse, the jacket looked remarkably clean, and he couldn't stop himself from trying it on, as if unsure that it would still fit him, as if he'd been gone for four years and not four days.
The answering machine clicked twice, and then began emitting a dial tone. With a frown, Dean stood back up, marched over to the machine and hit the 'erase' button. "Message erased," it chirped, followed quickly by, "Message two."
A young boy's voice carried through the recording. "Dean, it's Hiro. My connection's down, so I won't be able to get online today. I'm gonna go see Yasu; if you find out anything about that guy, send it to his account, okay?" There was a pause. "Orca at The World dot com. Maybe he can help us out, too." He stuttered briefly as he added, "A-anyway, take care, Dean. I'll see you tomorrow!"
Dean smiled, something warm and fuzzy hitting him hard in the gut. (Heh. Guess I owe you one too, Hiro man.)
"Message three." A change of voices, to that of a falsely enthusiastic salesman. "Are you an entrepreneur? Are you interested in working out of the home?"
"I already do, thanks," he murmured, punching the 'erase' button.
"Message four." Another change in voices, this one a lot more welcome than the last. "Dean-o! Pick up the phone, I know you're there. Aw, what's the matter, too busy to talk to your old man?" A laugh. "You know it's 8 in the morning here, right?"
(Aw, man... sorry, Dad.) Dean collapsed on the nearby couch, letting out a long sigh, a sudden bout of fatigue catching up with him. (Hope he's not too upset...)
"Ah, I'm just hassling you. Gotta hassle you, that's what we do, you know?" He could hear the grin in the speaker's voice. "Well, I just thought you'd be in. I'll talk to you later, Dean, okay? Bye."
Dean rubbed his forehead, hearing the machine announce the fifth message. (Well, that's two people I need to call back... dammit, I just woke up and I feel like I need a vacation. Hell, I probably need two.)
"Hello, Dean."
The woman's soft, smooth voice jarred him from his reverie, tickling a particular spot in the back of his memory. A voice attached to a name, a woman, an informant who had helped him a while back – Miku Kurasawa.
(BT.)
He glanced over at the machine as it continued to speak. "I... was hoping... trying to get ahold of you." She hesistated; he got the impression she was silently chastising herself. "I saw you online yesterday. Is everything all right?"
(Online? What's she talking about?)
"In any case, call or mail me when you get a chance. There's something I want to ask you. And... whatever it is you had to do, be careful. Er, take care, I mean." She said something under her breath, and then the line clicked.
"End of messages."
Dean flopped back against the couch, groaning in simultaneous contentment and frustration. He didn't bother with questions, instead closing his eyes and settling in for a catnap, making a mental note that he had to finish unpacking later.
And a lot of thinking to do, too.
- End of Chapter 22